I have a devil on my right shoulder and an angel on my left. I still bear your scars on my heart and your bruise on my neck, how both can coexist delivered by the same hand is beyond the scope of my knowing.
You have stated your business and now, you await a response, one in your favor… you hope.
The devil urges me to pay you back in your own coin, to do to you what had been done to me; the angel sits silently, neither dissuading nor persuading, sometimes silence is, in itself, an answer.
So no, do not think you will find any pity here.
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Quiet women and other myths: A collection of musings
PoetryI wouldn't go so far as to call this poetry (which would imply that *I* am a poet), but I can safely call this a collection of musings, thoughts and sometimes badly strung up words about anything and everything.
